


A Keeping of Oaths

by lodessa



Series: Game of Fixes [2]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: AU From the End of 8x03, AU from the middle of 8x04, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Implied Daenerys Targaryen/Jorah Mormont, Breathplay, Cersei dies, Character Death Fix, Cunnilingus, Daenerys Stays Sane, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Family Planning, Fix-It, Gender Role Reversal, Happy Ending, Jorah Lives, Marriage, Marriage Proposal, Multiple Orgasms, POV Brienne of Tarth, References to Past Jaime/Cersei, season 8 fix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 14:19:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18994327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lodessa/pseuds/lodessa
Summary: In a better timeline, Jaime sticks around at Winterfell after he and Brienne finally give in to their mutual feelings for one another,  and they sort out what they want their future to look like together.





	A Keeping of Oaths

**Author's Note:**

> This is the second in a series of AU fix-it fics I am writing in response to season 8, each focused on a different ship but in the same AU timeline. 
> 
> You absolutely don't need to have read the first fic in the series for this one to make sense, but they do follow the same period of time and it does explain what is going on with Daenerys here. In terms of Jaime and Brienne's relationship, this fic AUs from the show in the middle of episode 8x04 (right where Bronn shows up) but in terms of the overall timeline it is set in, the AU split happens at the end of 8x03 (with Jorah miraculously surviving).
> 
> All gratitude and appreciation to [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/pseuds/janie_tangerine) for the inspiration and guidance when I got stuck in the process of writing this. Without her, this fic would not be remotely as sexy.

“I have a confession to make,” Jaime tells her and Brienne feels her throat constrict. 

She reminds herself that Jaime has made a lot of confessions to her over the years and they may sometimes have been painful to hear but they have always helped her understand him. Without those confessions they wouldn’t be here together in her bed… their bed.

Still, the way he says it, with a sheepishness he never had in admitting his incestuous relationship with Cersei, in telling her the gory details of the day he slew the mad king. It makes her nervous.

_What could he feel so bad about telling me?_

She tries not to imagine worst case scenarios that disgrace his character to satisfy her insecurities and fear. He has not left her. He is here laying with his head upon her chest, one arm around her waist and the other trapped beneath her.

“It was never my intention to give you false expectations,” he starts and it is hard not to feel that is all about to crumble.

“Can you speak plainly?” she snaps, pulling free of him to sit upright, inpatient with the suspense and the growing sense of foreboding accompanying it.

“When I came to you, after the Night King fell, I came to you as Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock, presumptive High Lord,” he begins and she truly has no idea where he is going with it.

“You know I don’t care about that. That wasn’t why I-”

Can he truly think that matters to her, that she was after his title or his lands? Does he know her so little?

“I didn’t think it was,” he promises, taking her hand in his before continuing, “but the fact remains that it was an expectation you were entitled to and now I’ve gone and done something that changes that.”

“Which is?” 

She hopes he hasn’t gotten himself banished, or worse yet sent to the Night’s Watch. They have had such a brief span together, but already the idea of going back to her solitary existence is intolerable.

“I’ve relinquished my claim to Casterly Rock,” he surprises her a little by saying. “ When I did it I wasn’t thinking to wrong you but now I am realizing that if we have children that inheritance is one that would have-”

“You want to have children with me?” she can’t help interrupting.

The truth is that she hadn’t really been thinking about it. This thing between them is so new, at least its consummation, and she hasn’t had time to really ponder all the things she thought would never be an option for her and now suddenly could be.

Of course, the idea that he wants to have children with her, that he is thinking about their inheritances… implies that he also wants to wed her and it's not that Brienne thought he didn’t. She just didn't assume he had thought of it. 

The truth is that when he came to her that night, she was grateful for whatever it was that he was offering. She was willing to take him on any terms, half crazed with emotion and longing. She would have accepted finding him gone in the morning. He stayed though. He was there the next morning and the one after that and the one after that. He announced he was staying at Winterfell, with her.

When she thinks of it all together, it is perhaps evident that he intended marriage and children with her. She just has been too blinded by the awe of it to consider those implications.

“I do… I mean if you would,” he looks ashamed again, “I realize we never discussed…”

She can’t believe it took her so long to see just how deeply Jaime believes that he deserves nothing good in his life. In some ways they are alike in the way they set aside expectations on their own behalf, expecting nothing for themselves but the cruel indifference of a cold world, while demanding of themselves something better. 

She knows this, and yet it is intolerable to her for him to feel this way, not when she can change it.

“If we do it won’t be so they can rule the West,” she tries to reassure him, turning towards him and cupping the side of his face with her free hand as she leans down to kiss him, “It is a relief honestly and it isn’t as if Tyrion doesn’t deserve it.”

“Tyrion has relinquished his claim as well,” Jaime tells her, which takes her by surprise.

Jaime, she knows well enough now, has never truly cared about possessing Casterly Rock, at least not as an adult. He gave it up multiple times for his dreams of knighthood, for the Kingsguard, for Cersei. Tyrion, on the other hand, she knows chafed at his father’s refusal to acknowledge him as his heir after Jaime took the white. She had immediately assumed that Jaime must have stepped aside to clear the way for his brother.

“I do not understand,” she is forced to admit.

“Ser Bronn. Cersei offered him Riverrun to kill us both. He gave us a chance to make a better offer. Tyrion was going to promise Highgarden, but the truth is that there is only one great castle that either of us have the right to gift and I’ve never wanted it anyway,” he reveals, echoing her earlier thoughts, before pledging, “I thought only of you and wanting to live out a full life together. I didn’t think about how I might be taking from our future line until it was done.”

“You did the right thing,” she does her best to allay his evident fears, touched that this is his worry, the thing he is wrecked by the thought of.

“Did I though? I am not entirely sure, though the thought of how much it would have enraged my father, I’ll admit made the whole thing far more appealing. I’m just not sure it was the right thing, the honorable thing.”

“You did the honorable thing,” she reassures him again, “You usually do, no matter how often you deny it.”

“We Lannisters **do** always pay our debts,” he smirks, self possessed and sharp tongued as he recalls him being when first they met, and yet warm now in a way he wasn’t then.

“Is that so?” she chuckles.

He kisses her in response and she willingly reciprocates, running her fingers through his hair as he traces her jawline with his.

“You have made me the happiest man in the seven kingdoms, Ser Brienne of Tarth,” he murmurs against her lips, “Say you will stay with me.”

“I’ll stay,” she promises his, though there never was any question as to that.

She presses him back against the pillows, kissing him soundly as she leans over him.

“And will you bear my children? Do you want to?” he adds, causing her to realize she never exactly answered that question earlier. “If you would rather not, it will have no bearing on my love for you, but I realize it a question that ought to be asked.”

“I would,” she assents, swinging one leg over to straddle him. “I will with joy.”

“Will you marry me?” he persists with a grin that has overtaken his face, “Before gods and men will you be my wife?”

“Without hesitation,” she finishes, eagerly claiming his mouth against with her own

“Perhaps,” he says, breath becoming ragged, “I should have begun with that a full fortnight ago.”

“Perhaps,” she replies, “if you had waited for the courage to being with that, we might never have found ourselves here at all.”

“Are you calling me craven?” he demands as his hand snakes between them to one of her breasts.

“If I was, I would be honor bound to battle myself to defend the honor of my betrothed now wouldn’t I? So that seems like it would be rather foolish of me, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Come up here,” Jaime urges with a nod of his head, “I am suddenly recalling I have a debt to resume paying on.”

Willingly, she sits up and readjusts to place her knees on either side of his head. 

“I want you to be the last woman I share this with,” he murmurs into her skin as he kisses her thighs. “I want you to be the woman I have done so the most with.”

“I want you to be the only one I ever have,” she groans, as he moves his mouth inward. 

“I vow,” he tells her, “to ensure that you are the most well and frequently loved woman in the seven kingdoms.”

“So many vows…” she begins to tease him, but then he sets to work making good on that most recent one and the rest of the words die on her lips.

They already made love earlier in the night, when they first came upstairs, and she’s still tender from that, from the last two weeks during which they have seized every opportunity to do so. 

Jaime is gentle though, softly running his tongue over her, tracing around her opening and then pressing lightly above it, gentle pressure against the heart of her sensations. He moves his tongue slowly, changing approaches when she jolts slightly at a raw angle. 

He seems in no hurry, as he carefully builds the tension within her, her body tingling with sensation as she begins to press her hips into his face, moving so he will come into contact where she needs it most. 

The first time he did this, she tried to still herself. The first time he did this, she didn’t know what to expect. Now she stares down at him, at Jaime Lannister, at the man who is staring up at her with rapt attention as her body starts to tremble, and knows that he is hers as she is his.

She buries her hands in his hair as her head falls back, arching her body as he sucks slowly, sending her over the edge into ecstasy. A wave of pleasure flows through her as she shakes almost violently.

“Where do you think you are going?” Jaime asks, as she moves to dismount her position riding his face, legs still weak. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He puts one arm on her lower back, and flips them over so she’s reclining, though her head is by the foot of the bed, and he’s kneeling between her thighs.

“Oh…” she mouths, as he goes back to work with his month, kissing her shoulders and then across her collarbone and over her breasts until he reaches a nipple and takes it between his lips, moving his left hand between her legs to run along and then press a finger into her slowly. “ **Oh!**

 

“Of course, you have my blessing, Brienne,” Sansa exclaims. “My blessing as your liege lady, and my congratulations and help as your friend.”

Brienne is flustered by her enthusiasm, and the familiarity offered in the form of describing herself as a friend. She knows that Sansa is attached to her, that she values her protection, that she trusts her, but Brienne has never had an easy time making friends. It is simpler to think of their relationship as liege and vassal.

“Help, my lady?” 

“With the wedding, of course. The winter roses should be blooming any time now and they will look so lovely with your eyes. Of course, putting together a proper feast is going to be a challenge but I think-”

“Please… Lady Stark. I don’t want.”

A big ornate wedding. A bunch of people staring judgmentally at them, either because they hate him for his past or they scorn her for her appearance. 

“Don’t want it?” Sansa looks suddenly horrified, as if Brienne had just admitted to slaughtering babes in their mother’s arms. Is it really so unimaginable to her that not everyone would want to be the center of a crowd’s attention? But then her next words make it clear she’s misunderstood, “Did I misread this situation when I invited him to stay in the first place? Is he pressuring you? In that case I take back my blessings. In fact, in that case as your liege lady I forbid it.”

“No,” she rushes to clarify. “I do want it, want him. I want to marry him. I just don’t want a large spectacle.”

“You deserve a proper wedding as befits both of your status,” Sansa insists, “Besides, it would bring me joy to witness a wedding that brings joy and not misery to those involved.”

“Did you not say that your brother would likely wed the dragon queen,” Brienne says, glancing across the parapets to where Daenerys Targaryen is slowly making her way around, a haggard looking but on his feet Ser Jorah Mormont on her arm. “I know that you have had your misgivings about her, but will it not give you joy to see your brother married to a woman you believe he loves?”

“Better not to borrow trouble,” Sansa’s smile tightens as she follows the direction of Brienne’s attention with her own, “I will admit that Daenerys Targaryen has grown on me, but I also hope I may have misjudged the situation with her and my brother. Let us say no more of it.”

“As you wish, my lady,” she replies dutifully, though Sansa’s change in approach to Daenerys has her wondering what Sansa knows and what she is plotting. Brienne knows that Sansa trusts her with her life, but years as a hostage and under Littlefinger’s care have left Lady Stark secretive. 

“A small wedding then” Sansa shifts back to her prior focus, “You would not deny me such a thing.”

“I marvel that they still appeal to you, my lady,” Brienne cannot help commenting, “After everything.”

A child bride, given to the Imp. Joffery turning purple as he died horribly. Tales of what happened to Sansa’s brother and lady mother at the Twins. A fugitive, married to an true monster of a man. If Brienne were Sansa, she does not think she would wish to attend any more weddings, let alone plan one.

“I will not let my past define me,” Sansa tells her. “I will not let them take from me my joy of what ought to be a happy occasion.”

Sansa Stark is brave, brave without weilding a sword, or perhaps all the braver because of that. _Her mother was brave too, _Brienne remembers.__

__“And you, my lady?” Brienne wonders, “Will you ever wed again?”_ _

__“I do not know, I suppose,” Sansa seems a bit taken aback by the question. “I suppose none of us really know what the future holds in store for us.”_ _

__Brienne cannot argue with that. If someone had told her that she would win the heart and hand of a golden lion, she would have taken it for mockery. If someone had told her than she would find the Kingslayer a man of honor and give herself to him, she would have called such a notion absurd._ _

__“Sansa,” Jon announces his presence behind them, “Ser Brienne, I hear from Lord Tyrion that congratulations are in order.”_ _

__“Thank you, my lord,” Brienne feels herself flush with the attention._ _

__“Sansa, do you think we could take a walk in the Godswood… alone?” he asks his sister, before turning back to Brienne, “I promise to watch over her diligently.”_ _

__“I don’t see why not,” Sansa agrees, holding her hand out to her brother, “Go on, Brienne.”_ _

__Brienne watches their figures retreat together, sees the way that Sansa does not flinch when Jon puts his hand against the small of her back for stability as she descends the stairs. Sansa can still trust, Brienne sees clearly, despite all the people who have betrayed and abused her. She may speak cautiously, but Sansa hasn’t given up hope or faith in the end._ _

__“Lady Brienne.”_ _

__She is about to descend from the parapet when Queen Daenerys calls out to her._ _

__“Your grace,” she replies, surprised at the attention, but turning to incline her head respectfully and stopping in her tracks._ _

__Daenerys and Jorah finish walking towards her, the queen’s arm in his, though Brienne observes that truly it is her supporting his steps rather than the other way around._ _

__“I hear you are to be wed,” the queen begins, and Brienne finds herself worried all over again for Jaime’s safety._ _

__“That is correct,” she replies as evenly as she can._ _

__Daenerys was not happy about Jon and Sansa’s decision to trust Jaime, to set aside what he did to her father. When they were about to face the Night King, it seemed foolish to cast aside any arm that was willing to fight on their side, but what if now Daenerys wants her revenge?_ _

__“You know when Jaime Lannister showed up here, I could not understand his motivation,” Daenerys says. “Why come when he knew I was here and the feelings I was bound to have about his betrayal of my father.”_ _

___Did you ever stop to wonder why he did it?_ she resists responding._ _

__“Ser Jaime is an honorable man,” she swallows instead. She doesn't know what Daenerys wants, what she has sought Brienne out for, but she doubts it is something that she is willing and able to give._ _

__“There are those who believe a man cannot change,” Daenerys continues, and Brienne’s trepidation makes her sweat despite the chill. “But I know otherwise. There is one thing that makes men change.”_ _

__“Oh?”_ _

__“Love,” Daenerys smiles, “For better or for worse, that is the one thing that can change men’s hearts and as a result their habits and course of action.”_ _

__Brienne does not miss the way that Daenerys’ gaze shifts away from her towards Ser Jorah. For a moment it feels as though this conversation is not really with her at all, but part of a dialogue she knows nothing about, but then Daenerys looks back in her direction and says, “I should have seen that he was in love with you.”_ _

__“I’m not sure I-” she starts to stammer only to be cut off._ _

__“Love of a bad woman can inspire a good man to evil deeds, while love of a good woman can make a man turn away from treachery and weakness and towards loyalty and bravery.”_ _

__“Every man must own his past misdeeds,” Jorah interjects._ _

__“And yet,” Daenerys smiles sideways at him, “I believe in forgiving them, in giving them another chance.”_ _

__“Thank… you, your grace.” Brienne manages, more certain than before that there is a dimension to this conversation she is missing._ _

__“A man who changes because of you, that is a powerful thing, Brienne of Tarth… a precious thing.”_ _

__“Yes, your grace,” she replies, unsure once again what the queen’s aim is in speaking to her._ _

__“It is a testament to you, the loyalty you inspire. Lady Stark seems apt to suspect the worst in everyone, and yet she trusts you.”_ _

__“I do my best to be worthy of it.”_ _

__“If you were not to be wed,” Daenerys comments, “I would be tempted to try to steal you for my Queensguard.”_ _

__For a moment Brienne wonders if this is what Daenerys really sought her out to say. If so, she prays the queen will not press the issue. Even if it were not for Jaime, she would not betray Sansa in her allegiance, and if Daenerys is attempting to flatter her into such an action it makes Brienne think the less of her._ _

__“I am flattered, your grace, but I am thrice promised.”_ _

__“That’s right,” Daenerys nods, “In addition to your pledge to Lady Stark and your betrothal, you are your father’s heir aren’t you?”_ _

__“Yes,” she acknowledges, “My father is lord of the island of Tarth and I am his only child.”_ _

__“There is something about islands and the way it shapes those from them, isn’t there, Ser Jorah? I suppose it's the isolation.”_ _

__“I suppose it does breed a certain measure of self sufficiency, Khaleesi.”_ _

__“If you’ll excuse me your, grace,” Brienne stammers, hastily retreating._ _

__She finds Jaime with his brother, Podrick, and Bronn._ _

__“Lady Brienne,” Bronn acknowledges as she enters the room._ _

__“It’s Ser Brienne now,” Tyrion corrects, without the slightest hint of irony, and for that she feels a growing affection for him._ _

__“Ser Brienne then,” Bronn amends with a shrug, as if to say it matters not in the slightest to him, one way or another._ _

__“Did you speak to Lady Stark?” Jaime asks her, rising to pull out a chair next to himself for her at the table._ _

__“I did,” she confirms._ _

__“And?”_ _

__“The only thing we have to worry about is trying to keep her from planning an overly extravagant wedding,” she reassures him._ _

__He smiles: it’s not the cocky smirk she first remembers from him, but that understated mostly closed mouth wide grin she’s seen so much of late._ _

__“If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen,” he says as he stands up and holds his hand out to her. “I think it is time for my betrothed and I to depart.”_ _

__She accepts his offered hand, embarrassed by the knowing smiles of the two men observing them and the uncomfortable look on her squire’s face, but persisting anyway._ _

__“Are you looking to spar?” she enquiries, though he doesn’t have them headed towards the training grounds._ _

__“In a manner of speaking,” he smirks and she can’t help grinning back at him conspiratorially, as they ascend the stairs towards their rooms in broad daylight._ _

__His hands are in her hair as soon as they close the door behind themselves._ _

__“Brienne,” he murmurs, as he presses up onto his toes and into her mouth._ _

__“Jaime,” she whispers back, hands grabbing hold of his hips._ _

__It still amazes her that she can do it, that her touch is welcome, is wanted. It is clear that it is, though, as a low whine escapes Jaime’s lips in response and she feels him press into the contact instead of away. She moves her hands to his jacket, and then when that is discarded his shirt._ _

__“You’re always so gentle,” he groans as her hands trace his bare skin, mapping his stomach and chest and shoulders. “Strongest person I’ve ever met and you are so damned gentle, even that day in the Harrenhal baths.”_ _

__“Should I not be?” she asks, suddenly self conscious once more._ _

__“No,” he clarifies quickly, “I love it. I love knowing that you could overpower me, but that you would never hurt me.”_ _

__“I could overpower you,” she considers, “I’m strong enough.”_ _

__“I am interested,” he tells her._ _

__She moves her hands back to his hips and then backside, lifting him up off the ground slightly, and he wraps himself around her, legs around her waist and arms around her neck, as they resume kissing once more._ _

__“When you say overpower you…” she asks, “Is there something in particular you imagine me doing?”_ _

__“Whatever it is you want to,” Jaime shudders, as she kisses the underside of his jaw. “That’s the fantasy… you doing what you desire to me.”_ _

__“Oh,” she can’t help saying, before pulling him a little tighter against her and stumbling blindly towards the bed._ _

__She kisses his face first: forehead, temples, across the bridge of his nose. Her hands rest on his shoulders as she leans over him, keeping him in place as she makes her way down his throat and over his collarbone. He writhes under her, arch his hips up._ _

__Her hands move down his arms as she kisses his shoulders and then chest, stopping at each scar to trace it with her tongue before moving on. When she reads the end of his right arm, she removes the golden hand and sets it aside, before returning her hand to the stump to caress it with her fingertips, caress the uneven scarring with circles of her thumb, as her other hand entwines with his left._ _

__“You don’t have to-” he starts to protest._ _

__“I thought I was doing whatever I wanted,” she reminds him, deciding to switch her full attention to it as she takes the stump in both hands and brings it to her lips._ _

__“You can’t really want to-”_ _

__“I do,” he tells him, rubbing her face against the scar tissue before dotting it with kisses. “I am.”_ _

__She moves her right hand away, leaving her left holding his in place, covering the evident bulge in his breeches with it._ _

__“Gods,” Jaime moans, as she runs her fingers along the length of his manhood through the fabric, as she continues kissing his maimed wrist, and she feels him react to her touch._ _

__“You deserved to be loved... all of you,” she tells him, before finally guiding his arm back onto the bed next to him and turning her attention to ribcage, less exposed now than when she first saw him in Harrenhal, half starved._ _

__“I don’t, but I’m selfish enough to accept it anyway,” he whispers, and she stops what she’s doing to sit up and look him in the eyes._ _

__“I love you,” she tells him. “To claim you shouldn’t be loved is an insult to my judgement and character.”_ _

__“Don’t you remember what I told you so long ago, _wench_?” he says, but his voice when he says wench is so soft and warm now, like a verbal caress, “We don’t get to choose who we love.”_ _

__“Shut up,” she finally tells him, swooping down to claim his mouth once more. “I’d choose you anyway, if I had a choice.”_ _

__She moves more quickly down his body this time, kissing a path to his navel and then pulling his breeches and smallclothes down so she can continue her journey, holding both his thighs in her hands as she drags her lips downward to the inside of one of his knees and then back up from the other._ _

__“You don’t need to,” he says as she moves her mouth to his manhood._ _

__“Am I going to be forced to hold you down?” she asks, “Or are you going to stop assuming what I do and don’t want?”_ _

__He relaxes under her touch once more, groaning as she traces his hip bones with her fingertips as she makes her first attempt to take him in her mouth._ _

__Men talked about this incessantly. She’s heard them at every war camp she’d ever been in. Surely it can’t be that difficult to figure out._ _

__The truth is that it feels awkward and she isn’t sure if she is doing it right, but he gasps and twitches under her and she thinks about how many times he’s done the reverse for her already, without expecting it in return, and she just wants to do it for him enough that the gagging sensation as she finds herself at the wrong angle and the difficulty figuring out how exactly she’s supposed to be getting enough air don’t really matter._ _

__“Brienne,” he moans, “Brienne…”_ _

__She holds his hips in place as she continues her exploration: finding a better angle, relaxing her jaw slightly. She wishes she had better information in this than the vague crude comments of strangers. It is not that Jaime seems displeased or not to enjoy what she’s doing, but there is no build to it, no sense of reaching a destination._ _

__After a while, she changes course, moving back up his body and kissing his lips once more._ _

__“I’m sorry I don’t know better how- I am going to learn, though. I’ll get better.”_ _

__“You didn’t need to,” he murmurs, “You don’t ever need to.”_ _

__“Is that because you don’t think I can, or because you don’t like it in general?” she asks, feeling embarrassed and like she isn’t good enough once more._ _

__He seems genuine, and yet that makes her feel all the more a failure. _Cersei probably knows exactly what she’s doing_ , a cruel small voice inside her whispers._ _

__“Neither,” he tells her, “I just don’t need you to do something you don’t enjoy. I know women don’t enjoy it,” he adds, painting a different picture entirely._ _

__“Why would you say that, when you seem to enjoy doing the reverse?” she asks, though she suspects she must already know the answer._ _

__“Cersei didn’t,” he admits. “She would, if it served her interests, but she found no joy in it.”_ _

__“I’m not Cersei,” she reminds him, though that much is terribly obvious, “And I think I could find joy in it. I don’t enjoy not being good at things, but...” she insists. “I want to. I want to make love to you in every way you can be loved.”_ _

__“Far be it for me to protest,” he relents, seeming a bit surprised by her insistence. “Just… there’s no rush.”_ _

__She takes a moment to toss her own shirt off, before covering his body with her own, kissing him deeply as their bare skin comes together._ _

__“Good,” she murmurs._ _

__She has to pull away for a moment to finish undressing, enjoying the sight of him lying there naked and waiting for her. He’s beautiful, as beautiful as anyone she’s ever seen in his way, and something in her shakes at the realization that he is hers in this way._ _

__“What?” he asks, reacting to something in her expression, “What is it?”_ _

__She responds by taking him in her arms and kissing him once more, slowly and thoroughly._ _

__“Sometimes I look at you,” she tells him, “And I can’t believe you are really here with me.”_ _

__“I am,” he promises, reaching his hand up to touch her cheek, “I’m here and I am staying with you.”_ _

__“When you said you wanted me to overpower you…” she starts, and immediately feels him react beneath her, answering her question before he opens his mouth to reply._ _

__“I meant it,” he confirms._ _

__She takes his hand and pins it above his head, kissing him more demandingly._ _

__“Like this?” she asks._ _

__“Yes…” he breathes._ _

__Still keeping his hand in place she sits up somewhat, so she can run her hand along the length of his arousal and asks again, “Like this?”_ _

__“Yes,” he groans, hips jerking up off the bed._ _

__“And this?” she asks one more time, as she shifts herself over him, using her hand align things so she can slide down on him with ease._ _

__“Yes!” he cries out, just before she leans back down to kiss his lips as she rocks over and around him._ _

__She feels him shake under her, feels him deep within her, feels the way her body trembles with his._ _

__She forgets about being graceful or unworthy. She forgets about what she’s heard men want. She stretches her knees further apart to take him more fully, gasping in relief as her bodies rub together with every movement she makes._ _

__“Jaime,” she breathes. “I thought I knew what longing was before I had you, but I didn’t… not really.”_ _

__She hadn't. It was one thing to imagine what it might be like, being loved, making love. It was another to know, to remember, to be able to anticipate it happening again._ _

__She keeps his hand anchored against the bed, as she continues to move: long slow thrusts of her hips that rub him within and against her in ways that both satisfy and tantalize the growing feeling of urgency at her core._ _

__When she finds release it is slow and deep and she is grateful for Winterfell’s thick walls guarding her cries from the ears of anyone other than Jaime._ _

__When her breathing steadies, she lets go of his hand, sits up and takes hold of both of his hips, as she caresses his hips bones with her thumbs at the same time she resumes moving._ _

__He pushes up onto his elbows, still staring at her above him like she’s something he’s never seen before, as she guides him to completion, continuing to move his body under hers with her grip on him, even as he shakes and stiffens and cries out her name._ _

__She rides out his climax fully, relishing every last moment of his response._ _

__Letting go of him so she has her hands free to brace herself, Brienne leans down, to kiss him more softly now._ _

__“Say we can stay here for a little while,” he entreats. “Say we don’t have to rush to dress and attend to other matters.”_ _

__Sliding one hand under his waist and the other beneath his shoulder, Brienne flips them over so he is resting above her instead._ _

__“At least for a little while,” she agrees. “We can stay here for a little while longer.”_ _

__She tells herself that Sansa may not return for a while, and that even if she does it isn’t as if she is not at home surrounded by her own people who will protect her._ _

__Jaime buries his face into her neck, snuggling closer, and she traces patterns across his back with her fingertips, breathing in the scent of his hair in her face._ _

__“What do you imagine our life like, once we are married?” he asks her._ _

__“What do you mean?” she replies, “We already are acting as if we were in truth as opposed to only in our hearts.”_ _

__“I don’t just mean right now,” he specifies. “I mean, when the war is done. Do you mean to stay here in the North forever?”_ _

__She wonders why he is asking this now, after they have already promised to wed, after she has vowed to bear him children, after he’s given up his claim to Casterly Rock._ _

__“Eventually,” she admits, “It would be nice to go home.”_ _

__She imagines him there, imagines showing him her favorite parts of her home, imagines her father’s joy to have her home again but also to discover that she has found herself a husband after all, despite how impossible such a thing seemed when she left home._ _

__“I caught sight of Tarth once, on my way to Dorne. It is looked beautiful as I imagined,” he says. “Do you think your father will accept me?”_ _

__“My father will be overjoyed that any man was willing to wed me,” she attempts to reassure him._ _

__“Even the Kingslayer?” he doubts._ _

__“You won’t be the Kingslayer to him,” she tries to explain. “You will be the man who kept his line from ending, who gave him grandchildren, who quieted his fears about what would happen to me.”_ _

__“So when the war ends… when there is peace in the seven kingdoms and no one is left to threaten the Stark girls…”_ _

__“Come with me back to Tarth. Say you will.”_ _

__“Gladly,” he tells her and he sounds it. “I can think of no better fate than to retreat to the Sapphire Isle and raise our children in peace and isolation.”_ _

__

__“Queen Daenerys sent this up for you,” Sansa tells her, walking back from the door and handing Brienne a small box before returning to pinning the front of her hair back. It really has grown to be both too long and too short to let hang free, as Brienne had been forced to concede._ _

__“Should I open it?” Brienne ponders, as Sansa reaches for one of the fabled blue winter roses she had brought in on a tray, carefully putting it in Brienne’s hair, where she has secured it._ _

__“Of course,” Sansa says, “You wouldn’t want to be rude to our illustrious savior.”_ _

__The last words are a false sounding, but Brienne chooses not to comment on it. Sansa has been less aggravated by the queen’s presence of late, they seem to agree more in strategy meetings, but she still sometimes responds like this._ _

__Inside the box is a finely woven leather belt of blue and red, the moon and stars sigil of Brienne’s house featured prominently._ _

__“I suppose this means she gives her blessing,” Sansa comments._ _

__“She already did, my lady,” Brienne confesses, though it hadn’t been as clear cut as that. Suddenly she wonders why she hadn’t thought to mention it to Sansa before._ _

__“I suppose that’s a relief,” Sansa admits, “For your sake and Ser Jaime’s, but also in hope that she will really turn out to not be bent on vengeance.”_ _

__“She sought me out,” Brienne shares, realizing that perhaps Sansa will know better what to make of the conversation of that day than she had been able to. “She seemed quite… pacified by believing that Jaime’s feelings for me had changed him for the better. She gave a whole speech about the transformative power of love for men and second chances, but in truth I felt as though I was only privy to half of what she meant.”_ _

__“How so?” Sansa stops what she is doing with Brienne’s hair and walks around to look her in the face._ _

__“I can’t rightly say, just that at times it felt as though she almost forgot I was there while she was talking.”_ _

__Sansa is quiet for a moment, silently finishing arranging the roses in Brienne’s hair._ _

__“Were the two of you alone at the time?” she finally asks._ _

__“Ser Jorah was with her, my lady.”_ _

__“I see,” Sansa smiles knowingly._ _

__“You do?”_ _

__“I believe so yes. Tell me, my loyal Ser Brienne, what do you know of Ser Jorah’s history?”_ _

__“He’s from the North originally. But he travelled throughout Essos with her.” Brienne offers, for truly she knows very little, other than that the queen is rarely seen without him._ _

__“Do you know why he lost his claim to Bear Island? Why he entered her service in Essos in the first place?”_ _

__Brienne shakes her head._ _

__“He was caught engaging in the trading of slaves. The crown stripped him of his lands and banished him, but then later offered to restore it all, in return for spying on Daenerys. That’s the man he was when she met him: a disgraced man, a traitor, a spy. He might not have been as notorious as the Kingslayer, but you would be hard pressed to find someone who would have described him as a man of honor.”_ _

__“And she knows this?”_ _

__“She does now. She found out much later, after he’d stopped reporting on her, after he’d saved her life even when all he would have had to do was stand aside and do nothing and everything he had lost would have been returned to him. She sent away for a time, but from all accounts he was still her most loyal and ardent follower. He still is, and as we can all see she trusts him once more.”_ _

__“So you think she was speaking for his benefit?” Brienne surmises, it would explain the strange sensation she had of being a mere spectator in her conversation with the queen._ _

__“Perhaps,” Sansa smiles with that secretive smile Brienne now knows means that she will get no real answers out of her at this time._ _

__“Would you trust him in her place?” Brienne can’t help asking._ _

__“Trust,” Sansa says, “is a funny thing. We can talk all we want about who does or doesn’t deserve it, and yet that’s not really what determines it, those rational calculations… they are merely the justification for what we know in our hearts.”_ _

__“Do not we feel that trust based on evidence, on what we have observed and heard?” Brienne disagrees._ _

__“Perhaps you are right,” Sansa sighs, “After all, you are the one getting married today. You love and trust Ser Jaime and he clearly feels the same when it comes to you.”_ _

__“It wasn’t always that way,” Brienne points out._ _

__“Then perhaps I shall be forced to concede that Daenerys Targaryen has the right of it after all.”_ _

__“As she conceded you were right about not rushing down to King’s Landing the moment the Night King was vanquished?”_ _

__“If I didn’t know better, I would think you were taking her side,” Sansa says but it doesn’t have the bitterness to it that it might have. “Besides, I suspect others argued that point more effectively to her.”_ _

__Brienne is about to ask her who and why, but there is a knocking on the door. It is time to go down to the sept._ _

__The wedding is a blur. She must say the right words and take the right actions, but the only thing that is in focus is Jaime. His smile, the way his eyes gleam, the tremble of his hand as he drapes the cloak over her. These things are clear, but they are the only things that are._ _

__“Well,” Bronn says, striding over to them at the feast, and breaking her out of the reverie of staring into Jaime’s eyes. “Now that I’ve seen that, I suppose I can finally head south to claim my reward for putting up with you insufferable lot.”_ _

__“What insufferable lot is that?” Brienne asks._ _

__“Lannisters,” he grins before turning to walk away._ _

__“He’s in for a world of surprise,” Jaime grins conspiratorially. “I don’t think he realizes just how many Lannister cousins there are, most of whom will be attempting to bully or endear themselves to the new lord of Casterly Rock.”_ _

__“You almost make me feel sorry for him,” Tyrion comments, walking up to the spot Bronn just vacated._ _

__“Unlikely,” Jaime tells him, “The only person you ever really feel sorry for is yourself.”_ _

__“You wound me,” Tyrion winces dramatically and unconvincingly, “And here I was, ready to offer my best wishes to the happy couple.”_ _

__Brienne has gotten used to Tyrion. She knows he loves his brother, and he never looks at her with revulsion or disdain._ _

__“Do tell the queen thank you for the gift,” she tells him, changing the topic. “I don’t see her here or I’d do it myself.”_ _

__She doesn’t say that Daenerys has been seen in the great hall infrequently of late._ _

__“Her grace felt her presence might distract from the celebration,” Tyrion excuses, and Brienne wonders what is truly keeping her away._ _

__Out of the corner of her eye, Brienne sees Samwell Tarly enter the hall and make a beeline for Jon Snow. Jon’s eyes widen at whatever Tarly whispers to him, and he immediately goes up to Sansa and tells her something, before hurrying out of the room._ _

__“Something is afoot,” Tyrion comments._ _

__“You know I have no head for intrigue,” Jaime shrugs, reaching out and placing his hand over Brienne’s._ _

__“Sansa looks pleased,” Tyrion ignores his brother’s reply, and Brienne has to admit she does as she looks over to her._ _

__“Go on,” Brienne tells him, “No need to stand here with us waiting to find out what is going on. You may as well go see if she will tell you.”_ _

__“Thank you, my lady sister,” Tyrion bows his head slightly, “You know, I think I shall enjoy having a sister I actually like.”_ _

__“Go,” Jaime urges him, and he does._ _

__“He’s right,” Brienne comments, “There is something big going on.”_ _

__“This is for all intents and purposes a royal court,” Jaime replies, “There’s always something big going on.”_ _

__Sometimes it is easy to forget that Jaime has spent most of his life at court._ _

__“You sound unimpressed.”_ _

__“When everything is important, constantly, eventually it begins to feel as though nothings is, as though in the constant parade of intrigue, shocking twists, and bold moves there is no meaning, no real direction or consequences that last.”_ _

__“You don’t really believe that,” she insists._ _

__“Maybe not, but I’ve often felt it,” Jaime admits._ _

__Brienne sees Jon returning with Queen Daenerys and Ser Jorah, Bran following a little further behind them. The din of people talking quiets._ _

__“You don’t need to be here for this.”_ _

__Brienne hadn’t noticed Tyrion’s return to their table. He looks concerned._ _

__“Tyrion?”_ _

__“In a moment, one of them is about to announce that that war is over, that our sweet sister is dead and the seven kingdoms once again unified under a Targaryen monarch.”_ _

__“Cersei is dead?”_ _

__“Tumbled from a tall window apparently,” Tyrion replies, “Go on now. You don’t need to stay for this.”_ _

__Jaime seems frozen, so Brienne tugs him up and away. He doesn’t resist, passively following her lead._ _

__Neither of them say anything on the walk back to their rooms. Trust Cersei to ruin what should have been a day of happiness, Brienne can’t help thinking, but truly she is more worried about Jaime than saddened on her own account._ _

__“I’m sorry,” she finally tells him, cupping his downward cast face in her hand, “I know you loved her.”_ _

__“I did,” he admits, “I did for a very long time. I should **feel** something.”_ _

__“Perhaps you are in shock,” she suggests._ _

__“We always said we entered the world together and we’d go out the same way,” he recalls, “Well Cersei said it and I repeated it, and once that seemed like a promise but then later it seemed like a threat. And now she’s gone and I’m not.”_ _

__“I’m glad you aren’t.”_ _

__“So am I,” he tells her, finally rising his eyes to meet hers. “Is it wrong to feel a weight lifted?”_ _

__“Since when have you believed that right and wrong have anything to do with what we feel?”_ _

__“Since I realized how I feel about you,” he tells her._ _

__“It’s funny,” she replies as she realizes, “I stopped thinking so when I admitted to myself how I had come to feel about you.”_ _

__“I’m a coward,” Jaime berates himself, “I saw eventually what Cersei was and it terrified me. I could have stopped her, could have put and end to this earlier, but instead I froze up… I ran.”_ _

__“Come here,” she tells him putting her arms around him and pulling him to her chest, pressing a kiss into his hair._ _

__“You say I’m a man of honor, but no matter how you think of it, I don’t deserve that, not when it was my responsibility to do something and instead I waited for someone else to deal with her.”_ _

__“No one expected you to,” she tries to convince him. “The fact that you feel responsible shows you have honor, but not because you are.”_ _

__“Would you accept such a justification?” he asks, pulling back far enough to see her face. “If you had not delivered justice to Renly’s killer when you had the opportunity, would you not have felt regret?”_ _

__“If I had let Stannis go, I would have seen Sansa Stark’s signal for help and she would have suffered far less at the hands of Ramsay Bolton. Every action has a price and none of us can truly know what it will be before we accept it.”_ _

__Vengeance, Brienne understands now, is a path that bears no fruit or hope, as enticing as it so often seems._ _

__“And yet you married me.”_ _

__“Knowing there are risks isn’t a reason to stop living,” she tells him, remembering when he first lost his hand. He’d very nearly given up then, she is fairly certain._ _

__“You,” he credits, “have always been very good at helping me find the strength to do things that would otherwise seem impossible.”_ _

__“You are exaggerating.”_ _

__“No I’m not,” he insists, “You make me a better man, Brienne.”_ _

__He kisses her then, and she worries that he is avoiding finishing this conversation, but then she decides that they have their whole lives to discuss the matter._ _

__“I love you,” Jaime tells her, between pressing his lips to various points on her homely face. “I love you in a way I didn’t know I could love. I didn’t know love could feel… good.”_ _

__“Neither did I,” she admits, running her hands over his shoulders, “But this is good, isn’t it?”_ _

__“It is. I don’t deserve it… but it is.”_ _

__“Stop it,” she tells him, needing to find a way to pull him back from the spiral of self pity he is obviously about to enter. . “Stop saying that.”_ _

__“It’s true,” he insists._ _

__“No,” she refuses to indulge this. Moving her hands to his backside, she lifts him off the ground and presses him against the wall with her body, kissing him furiously before finishing, “It is not.”_ _

__“I threw Brandon Stark out a window.”_ _

__“You saved every child in King’s Landing,” she counters, pulling first his and then her shirt off, before capturing his mouth again._ _

__He kisses her back, like a drowning man gasping for air, but when she momentarily pulls back, to turn and move them toward the bed, he continues, “I defiled the white cloak.”_ _

__“You saved me from being raped. You risked your own life to keep me from being mauled to death by that bear.” she reminds him, setting him down on the bed and continuing to undress him, as his hand moves to trace the claw marks left behind._ _

__“I left you behind in the first place,” he shakes his head._ _

__“You kept your pledge to Lady Catelyn,” she reminds him, as she finishes with his clothes and moves on to her own._ _

__“Only through you,” he refuses._ _

__“You came North, even knowing that Daenerys might execute you.”_ _

__Finishing undressing, she covers his body with her own, groaning as he kisses her neck and caresses one of her nipples with his thumb._ _

__“I didn’t take the Lannister army with me,” he mumbles._ _

__“That might be the stupidest argument I’ve ever heard you make,” she tells him. “What do I have to do to stop the nonsense coming out of your mouth right now?”_ _

__“You’re resourceful,” he retorts, “Make me.”_ _

__“Stop,” she demands, taking one hand and pressing it to his throat. “Or I really will make you.”_ _

__She feels him stir as she does it, from half to actually hard._ _

__“Please,” he entreats. “Do it.”_ _

__She presses down on his throat lightly and he shudders under her, manhood twitching eagerly._ _

__He reaches down and tries to touch her, but she pins his hand next to his head, releasing the pressure from his throat as she shifts so he’s no longer poking her thigh but instead up against her entrance._ _

__“I deflowered you, a highborn maiden, without thinking about the consequences,” he groans._ _

__“You married a freak, a woman no one else thought was worthy of love or desire,” she groans, reapplying pressure to his throat as she sinks down onto him._ _

__He arches up into her, hips pushing off the bed._ _

__“I love you,” she tells him, as she rocks her body around his. “I love you and you are worthy of love.”_ _

__Letting go of his throat and hand she kisses him again, not leaving space for him to argue. He reaches for her other breast this time, stroking her nipple._ _

__“Brienne,” he gasps, “I can’t. I need...”_ _

__She moves both hands to his neck this time, as she circles her hips with more urgency, both thumbs moving to cut off air from him once more as she recognizes what he’s asking for._ _

__Alternating between pressure and release, she keeps her eyes locked on his face, seeing the pleasure written across it, worried about pushing this too far and yet knowing that his is what he needs: feeling how much they are both enjoying it as her own reaction coats her thighs._ _

__“Jaime,” she pants, “Jaime…”_ _

__His eyes glaze over for a moment, as she presses a little more forcefully against his throat and she feels him tense under her, his release spilling into her, a flood of warmth that drives her over the edge as she tightens around him with a sharp cry._ _

__As she recovers herself, stilling her movements, Brienne lets go of her grip on his throat and lowers her mouth to it, gently kissing the reddened spots where her hands have been._ _

__“I’m sorry it… was that alright?” she asks, sitting up to look into his face. “It seemed like…”_ _

__“I needed that,” he tells her. “I wanted that. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever felt that level of complete release before. How did you know?”_ _

__“I didn’t,” she is forced to admit. “I just wanted you to stop beating yourself up, and then you responded the way you did and I figured…”_ _

__“When I told you I fantasized about you overpowering me… I didn’t know it exactly but **that** is absolutely what I’ve been craving.”_ _

__“You don’t have to insult yourself, you know,” she tells him. “You can just tell me what you want. I am your wife after all.”_ _

__“My wife?” he beams. “How I love the sound of that.”_ _

__She bends over to kiss him once more, moving from his lips to his face and then down his neck, leaving tongue trails of moisture over where her hands were so recently, punctuated with the lightest of nips.”_ _

__“By the Seven, you are going to be the death of me. I’m too old to go multiple rounds, and yet you make me want to so desperately.”_ _

__

__This place makes Jaime nervous. That much is clear. She wonders now, how he stood it all those years, trapped in the setting of his worst moment. Brienne supposes that the dragon’s presence isn’t helping matters. Perhaps, without that great black beast here, Jaime would not be fidgeting as he is now._ _

__The Queen is speaking, but Brienne finds herself distracted by Jaime’s obvious unease. Unable to not, she reaches out and grabs his hand in her own, squeezing tightly in an attempt to reassure him. He looks away from the dias towards her and she at him, and neither of them are prepared for the sudden wave of heat as the dragon turns and incinerates the throne with a single blast of flame._ _

__“She really did it,” Sansa exhales, on Brienne’s other side._ _

__“No need to sound so surprised,” Jon comments from the other side of Sansa._ _

__“I’m impressed,” Sansa confesses. “Maybe this queen of yours really will be able to keep a promise, after all.”_ _

__“Some of us do,” Jon replies softly, but then they all go silent as Daenerys descends from the dias with the attentive aid of Lord Commander Mormont, who seems to have fully recovered from the injuries he suffered during the battle against the Night King._ _

__The queen is a vision in a brilliant red gown, a heavy necklace in the shape of a dragon with ruby eyes upon her delicate neck, and her hair bound into elaborate braids surrounding her gleaming golden crown. There were many nights when Brienne laid awake and found herself wishing she looked like Daenerys does tonight, despite her best efforts._ _

__She glances over her shoulder at Jaime, who is gazing at her so softly, and that reflexive thought dissipates._ _

__“The war is over,” he tells her._ _

__“The war is over,” she acknowledges._ _

__She turns back towards Sansa and Daenerys, only to find that Sansa has wandered off and the queen is talking to Jon Snow now. Scanning the room, she finds her lady a ways off conversing with a youth who wears the colors and falcon House Arryn. _Her cousin, then. Young Lord Robert Arryn._ Brienne recalls Sansa describing the boy as sickly, but he does not appear so now. _ _

__The former throne room is packed. It seems that nearly every lord or lady, no matter how far flung or small in stature, is here in attendance tonight. Though they are only a few feet from her, Brienne could not make out what Jon and Daenerys are discussing if she wanted to. She does notice that Jon’s eyes also keep darting back towards his sister._ _

__She promised Jaime that when the seven kingdoms were at peace, they could leave the North and sail home to Tarth. She knows that he does not like it at Winterfell, except for the fact that she is there with him. Still, she knows too that Lady Sansa is loathe to leave Jon Snow behind with the queen and go home alone. Can she truly abandon her at such a time?_ _

__“You feel guilty,” Jaime says, “About leaving her?”_ _

__“I swore a vow,” she says._ _

__“To ensure she was safe,” Jaime points out, “And she is.”_ _

__“I promised more than that.”_ _

__“Do you think knights since first there were knights haven’t faced this moment? Lady Stark has given you her blessing. She considers your service completed.”_ _

__“Sansa Stark is too good natured to keep me against my will.”_ _

__“Do you not wish to return home?” Jaime asks. “Have you changed your mind?”_ _

__“No,” she replies hurriedly, “That isn’t it at all. I miss my father and I long to show you every nook and cranny of Tarth.”_ _

__“Is it that other thing?” he asks but before she can answer they are interrupted._ _

__“Oh good.” Tyrion marches right up to them. “I’ve found you.”_ _

__“Quite the task in this crowd,” Jaime acknowledges._ _

__“I found Bronn here too,”_ _

__“Lord Bronn,” Bronn smirks._ _

__“How is Casterly Rock treating you then?” Jaime asks._ _

__“Better than you ever did,” Bronn tells him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m just recently married you know. Finally found myself a highborn wife to go with the castle.”_ _

__“I didn’t know,” Jaime admits, “Who is the lucky girl then?”_ _

__“I haven’t been called a girl in ages, nephew,” a voice breaks free from the crowd behind Bronn and Tyrion._ _

__“Aunt Genna?” Jaime asks, face going pale._ _

__“Oh and this must be that wife of yours I’ve heard so much about,” Aunt Genna doesn’t exactly answer, as she emerges beside Bronn, gripping his side with one gem covered hand as he extends the other out towards Brienne. “My my, they told me you were tall but I thought they were exaggerating.”_ _

__Jaime’s aunt is short and shapely, the curves of her figure having filled in somewhat but still persisting by a generous margin. Her golden hair is streaked with silver, and there are lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth, but she is still a Lannister, beautiful and golden._ _

__“You… you married **him**. He married **you** ,” Jaime stammers._ _

__“That is generally how it works,” Genna replies, “You know I’ve always liked a man who is a little rough around the edges.”_ _

__“And I have realized just how much a woman of experience has to offer,” Bronn adds, leaning over to kiss his wife, fully, in the middle of this crowd. “You know you should show your uncle Bronn a little more respect.”_ _

__Brienne just barely realizes Jaime is fainting in time to catch him._ _

__“Help!” she cries out, cradling him in her arms as she kneels on the ground. “My lord husband!”_ _

__“I suppose we’ll have to wait until later to tell him that you formally adopted me and made me your heir,” Brienne vaguely hears Pod remark to Bronn._ _

__“You do know that makes you one of the most eligible bachelors in Westeros,” Tyrion comments._ _

__Jaime’s eyes flutter open, though they take a moment to focus on her._ _

__“You know,” she tells him, “I really ought to be the one fainting, in my condition.”_ _

__“In your condition?” She watches the progression of expression on his face as he sorts out what she means, ending in a broad hopeful grin as he asks, “Wait… really?”_ _

__“Really,” she confirms, beaming back down at him._ _


End file.
